


Words Can't Express

by TheAlternativeRuler



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, all the love for chubby!Yuuri, chubby!yuuri, this was for a tumblr thing but it was too long whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 07:52:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12272112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAlternativeRuler/pseuds/TheAlternativeRuler
Summary: How much I love you.





	Words Can't Express

**Author's Note:**

> For a tumblr request:
> 
> tummy kisses!! maybe just like one of them is having a bad day and to remind the other how great they are there's just lots of praise and kisses and support. or like after an injury or something who knows
> 
> I went on a tangent with this one, but I was loving the idea and it turned into a vent-ish, comfort-ish sort of thing. Please enjoy my soft fiancés and feel free to send me prompts on my tumblr! It's yuuri-the-katsudon

As soon as he woke up, Yuuri knew it was going to be a bad day.

Viktor had gone out on a quick errand run before their afternoon practice session, leaving Yuuri to sleep in. Except the bed was cold and empty—even Makkachin had retreated to the living room—and Yuuri felt Viktor’s absence like a missing limb.

He got up and began going through the motions of getting ready for the day. As he was changing into clothes more suitable for skating, his eye caught his reflection in the mirror. Before he could stop himself, his gaze lingered and then glued itself to the wretched thing.

They were in the middle of their second week of preseason training, so they didn't have to do 5 am runs or dawn to dusk skating practices just yet. For most skaters, preseason was a warm up, a chance to work through potential options for routines and themes for the upcoming competitive season. For Yuuri, however, preseason was a challenge he had to hurtle every year. On off-season, he tended to develop what Viktor lovingly dubbed a katsudon belly. It always went away (for the most part) after a few weeks of intense workouts, and it never really bothered Yuuri during the off-season, but once he got back into skating seriously it became a constant presence in his thoughts. The other skaters were already trim and toned, ready to resume the pattern of skating that they're all accustomed to. But Yuuri was, quite frankly, a pig. He couldn't do jumps as perfectly or as complex as he would normally, he couldn't keep going on his workouts for as long as his stamina would normally allow, and he felt…wrong, somehow. Like he shouldn't be skating on a rink with professionals despite knowing his own skills and capabilities.

Yuuri sighed deeply, turning this way and that in front of the mirror. 

_I should wear a sweatshirt instead, maybe…something longer and looser._

He changed again, doing his best to ignore the purple and white stretch marks zigzagged across his skin. It was going to be one of those days, he knew.

After making sure Makkachin was fed, he packed up his things for the rink and left. He could get there a bit early, it would benefit him to exercise as much as possible.

The rink was quiet when he arrived, not many skaters from the morning session lingering and hardly any from the afternoon session there yet. Yuuri took his time stretching, thankful at least that his flexibility never seemed to leave him on the off-season. Once he had loosened up, he laced up his skates and slid onto the ice. He did laps, figure eights, some light technical work, nothing too extreme. He wasn't exactly in the mood and he figured he’d wait for Viktor to tell him what he should work on today.

~*~*~*~*

Hours later, Yuuri was ready to go home and never set foot in a rink ever again. He was distracted the entire time and his skating suffered for it. Every jump and spin that lifted his sweatshirt caused him to anxiously pull it down, every landing that jiggled his thighs or stomach made him sick, and he was emotionally exhausted from the whole thing.

Viktor could tell that something was wrong, so he let Yuuri off early to cool down in the locker room while he finished up. Yuuri took the pity-excuse regardless of what it was and left, leaving his skates in his locker and stretching out his tense muscles. When he finished, Viktor hadn't yet come in and he settled in to wait so they could walk home together. 

Then he made the mistake of going on Instagram. 

Yesterday, Yurio had taken a photo of himself, Yuuri, and Viktor for his Instagram to commemorate the preseason training. Yuuri hadn't bothered to read the comments last night, but something compelled him to do it then. Yurio had lovingly captioned the photo “My first day of training to beat these disgusting love birds. Katsudon and his dumbass Nikiforov are going down.” That made Yuuri smile a bit and he clicked on the comments and began scrolling through. A lot of them were Yuri’s Angels wishing him luck or complimenting his looks, the usual, and some were fellow skaters with silly jabs at the Russian teen. But some others…weren’t so decent.

There were comments about him. He shouldn't be surprised, of course, and he wasn't, but he was reading them anyways wasn't he? There were comments about him and Viktor, some defending them against Yurio (which was sweet but unnecessary, they didn't care what he called them), and a few remarks about their relationship. Things about not believing they were still together a year later, a whole season later, things about people not seeing the appeal for Viktor. And then there were the ones about his weight, his looks, Yuuri in general. Pictures don't lie, obviously, and people were quite eager to point that out. From the slope of his chest and stomach, to the curves of his hips and thighs, to the roundness of his facial features, commenters had plenty to say about his appearance. Several of them reflected his own thoughts, so they didn't really sting, but one dug itself into the center of his brain and latched its little talons there.

“Katsuki must not care about Viktor at all if he's willing to let himself look like that. Everything Viktor did for him last season just went to waste, he's still the same weak, fatass skater he's always been. Disgusting, I'll bet Viktor’s disappointed.”

Yuuri inhaled sharply and turned his phone off. His eyes closed against the thought and he shook his head slowly.

_It doesn’t matter. You_ know _it doesn’t matter. Their words are just that, words. Viktor isn't disappointed in you, he loves you, you know that. They don't know anything._

(disgustingdisgustingdisgustingweakwastefailuredisappointment)

He stormed out the back exit and practically ran home.

~*~*~*~*

“солнышко, I'm home! Why didn't you wait for me?” Viktor calls out curiously, hanging up his apartment keys and his coat on the rack.

Silence.

Strange, he was sure Yuuri had gone home after practice this afternoon…

He hears whining and scratching and sees Makkachin sitting outside their (closed) bedroom door, pawing almost desperately at the wood.

“Makkachin? What's wrong? Is Yuuri in there?” Viktor asks, concerned. Makkachin looks back at him and whines as if in confirmation, and this shoots fear down Viktor’s spine.

He rushes to the door and knocks gently. “Yuuri? Are you in there, моя звезда?” 

Silence again. No, wait, there's a faint rustling of fabric and the smallest wet sound that makes Viktor’s heart clench painfully in his chest.

“Yuuri please, let me in,” Viktor pleads helplessly.

More rustling. Viktor runs to their kitchen and steals the key to the bedroom from the junk drawer. When he puts it in the lock and turns it, he hears a small hiccuping gasp and he quickly opens the door before Yuuri can try to hide himself.

Yuuri is curled up on the floor at the foot of the bed, clutching his pillow with his knees tucked against his chest. His cheeks shine with fresh tears that he frantically wipes at. “I-I locked that for a r-r-reason you know,” he says through a sniffle, burying his face back in the cushion.

“I know, I'm sorry, but I needed to make sure you weren't hurt,” Viktor says apologetically.

He hears a muffled “‘M fine” but doesn't believe it for a moment.

Slowly, he approaches Yuuri’s shrunken form and kneels beside him. “Yuuri.” He turns his head, one watery eye meeting Viktor’s stare. There's so much _concernworrylove_ in those eyes that Yuuri has to look away in shame. 

“Yuuri,” Viktor says again, softer. “Talk to me, дорогой.”

There's more silence, so much it's deafening and Viktor’s ears start to ring with the pressure of that tense silence so that he's taken off guard when Yuuri breaks it, tentatively, “I’m sorry.”

“What about? You've done nothing wrong,” Viktor says, confused.

He shakes his head, still not facing Viktor. “I’m wrong, Viktor. I'm…I’m not right for this, for you, I'm sorry.”

Viktor is floored. His jaw nearly drops he's so appalled by the words shakily falling from Yuuri’s lips. “Yuuri, why on earth would you think something like that? You're my fiancé, my whole life, everything that I am and more, I _love_ you!”

Yuuri breathes out in a sob. “I'm a disappointment, a failure. I'm…wasting your time a-and your affection and your skills and i-it's not right Viktor it's not.”

“You could never, ever disappoint me or waste my time and love. They belong to you, they're yours to take and do with as you please, _I’m_ yours and nothing has ever felt more right to me than what we have. Where is all of this coming from?” Viktor pleads, placing his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders.

“You just…deserve better and I'm…not that. It's been a year and look at me, I’m still huge and I can’t land simple jumps and I get so distracted and anxious I can't even get through preseason training without messing everything up,” Yuuri says depressingly, looking up at Viktor through brown eyes filled with pain and regret and guilt. “I love you, but you don't deserve this.”

Viktor moves to cradle Yuuri’s face in his hands and presses their foreheads together, despite Yuuri’s hitching breaths. “Yuuri, you're right, I don't deserve you, but you're giving all the wrongs reasons. I don't deserve someone as _wonderful_ as you. You gave me a home, a family, a purpose in life, and a reason to look forward to each and every day. There’s nothing I want more than to spend every second of the rest of my existence with you. I want to wake up next to you every morning and kiss your sleepy head awake, I want to take care of Makkachin with you, I want to experience all of the adorable domestics with you, I want to watch you skate, I want you to watch me skate, I want us to skate _together_ , I want to travel the world with you, I want to hug and kiss and cuddle you always, I want to find new meanings of life and love with you every day, and I want to go to bed with you every night and do it all over again. And god, I want to marry you more than anything in the world.”

Yuuri’s crying freely, but Viktor keeps going, “Watching you skate makes me feel so alive, Yuuri. You're graceful, beautiful, expressive, powerful, and so strong it scares me sometimes. You fight yourself to skate every day, at every competition and every performance, and you always win. None of the other skaters have to work even half as hard as you and you're leagues beyond anything they could dream of becoming. God, Yuuri, when you skate it's like watching a siren. You're all-encompassing, undeniably captivating, utterly awe-inspiring. When you beat your anxiety and skate as your true self, nothing on earth can touch you. You're incredible, it makes my heart flutter and pound and ache and melt all at once.”

Yuuri has shifted to bury his head in Viktor’s neck, crying, though Viktor suspects they're happy tears now. He shakes and tries to say Viktor’s name, but his breaths are too short.

“Shh, любовь моя. Breathe.” Viktor rubs his back soothingly, waiting for his sobs to die down to hiccups. He finally looks up, so much love and gratitude reflected in his eyes that Viktor finds himself falling even further for his fiancé, if such a thing is possible.

Viktor helps Yuuri stand up and sits him on the bed, propped up against the headboard. He leans over him and kisses his forehead, whispering sweet nothings against his skin. Yuuri finally relaxes completely and Viktor sighs inwardly in relief. 

“Thank you, Vitya. I…oh, words can't even say how much I love you right now,” he says, smiling for the first time that day.

“I love you too. And it's true, words aren't enough, so I'm going to show you,” Viktor declares. Yuuri looks up at him in confusion.

Viktor kisses his forehead again in answer until Yuuri closes his eyes. Then he trails kisses down the sides of his face, following the drying tear tracks on his soft, faintly pink cheeks. He places two feather-light kisses on Yuuri’s eyelids and then pecks his nose with an exaggerated “mwah!” which elicits a giggle. The kisses move further, down to Yuuri’s shoulders and collarbone. They're too light to be anything more than cherishing, which is just fine. Viktor grabs Yuuri’s right arm and makes a line of kisses all the way down until he's at his hand, kissing every inch of his palm, the tip of each finger, and right over the ring sparkling on his ring finger.

“You say you're huge, Yuuri, but I have a secret to tell you. I _love_ your stomach,” Viktor confesses emphatically.

Yuuri blinks, not believing what he's hearing. He looks down at his stomach, the skin poking out from the hem of his sweatshirt, and the sick feeling from before starts creeping back. “You don't have to lie, Viktor. I know it's not exactly attractive.”

“Have I ever lied to you, my Yuuri? I am in love with your off-season body. It's so soft, so cozy, you look naturally beautiful and I swear your skin glows like this.” Viktor trails his hand down Yuuri’s stomach reverently. “Curves suit you, любовь моя. I just want to cuddle you and never let you go.”

Slowly, so as not to spook him, Viktor lifts up Yuuri’s sweatshirt further and leans down, placing a gentle kiss on the crest of his stomach. Yuuri gasps a little, but doesn't stop him, so Viktor continues to pepper soft kisses against the skin of his tummy. When he trails light ones along Yuuri’s sides, Yuuri giggles and Viktor can't hide his growing smile. “If you didn't have to lose weight for skating, I would give you katsudon every day to keep you just like this, true to your body type, healthy and incredibly stunning.”

“Oh stop,” Yuuri says, rolling his eyes, but smiling nonetheless.

Viktor moves to kiss each and every one of Yuuri’s stretch marks, running his fingers over the raised lines as he goes.

“There's so many…” Yuuri says a bit sadly.

“They're as beautiful as the rest of you, my Yuuri. They tell a story of all the hard work you've put into each and every skating season. They're a testament to your determination,” Viktor says lovingly, continuing his path across Yuuri’s tummy.

Yuuri threads his fingers through Viktor’s hair, holding him in a simple gesture of thanks. He couldn't possibly love Viktor any more, his heart would explode.

Viktor smirks and squeezes Yuuri’s thighs. “Do I even have to tell you how much I love this part of your body?” 

“Viktor,” Yuuri says chidingly, still not able to stop smiling. Viktor chuckles and Yuuri laughs a bit too. He feels warm, safe, content, and unbelievably loved. Viktor wiped away all of his self-doubts with gentle hands and even gentler lips. Yuuri doesn't know how he managed to be so lucky, doesn't know why the universe gifted him with Viktor, but whatever the case he's never going to let go of this, of them.

He pulls Viktor up and into a proper kiss, whispering his thanks against the lips of the man he loves more than life itself. Viktor is a godsend and he belongs to Yuuri just as much as Yuuri belongs to him. He likes it that way.

**Author's Note:**

> Viktor is the best at comfort no one can convince me otherwise. (I kinda wanna do a sequel where Yuuri comforts Viktor about something though, thoughts?)


End file.
